Ink
by Simone Robinson
Summary: "-You might look back and see a mess, or a singular red line on the page. Or two. I think that was two. Now I see a green line. Another red. And another.-"
1. Chapter 1

**I** n k

* * *

It's easier- writing and not seeing the words- writing in a type of invisible ink. I just said that to sound fancy- I'm really typing on Microsoft Word with all the settings to white. You can't go back and erase your mistakes- I guess that would be a bit difficult, wouldn't it? You can't see them. In hindsight, you say more, you do more, you forget where you were and you trail off and you stumble and fall trying to make everything better. And that little black dot of life just crawls across the page, moving down and down and down and before you know it, you've written pages and pages but most of it's a blur, and you only know the basics of what you've done.

Life is a lot like that.

Using the back button is risky too, because you might just chop of a word, or join two words that were never meant to touch, you might look back and see a mess, or a singular red line on the page. Or two. I think that was two. Now I see a green line. Another red. And another.

And things start to get a bit sketchy when it's all white, and you start a new paragraph, a new chapter.

I'm typing blind most days. Recently. Otherwise it's too easy to go back and fix and change and fix and change and it never really ends.

I think that's why I prefer a notepad and pen. From way back when. From a while ago, I think. Before Donnie started to get all techno smart and Leonardo was chosen to be leader, and Raphael – I did it again. I typed Raph's full name and I wanted to backspace, I wanted to backspace and edit it, edit it to 'Raph'. I think I'll go back over this- fix my typos. There's more red lines now. A lot of them. I used to think I was a good speller- once I'd learn to read and spent hours studying because I wanted Leo and Master Splinter to be proud, wanted to show them I wasn't just a mess up, I suppose.

Didn't really work- but I found the passion, the love of the written word and of every little meaning and creation and author writes. I'm a writer. Just a writer. Not an author. Not published yet, am I? I wonder if I could ever be.

Don't know. I should ask Donnie about it. Maybe not. I spoke to him a while back, when he was sitting in his lab and I was sitting in the lounge. I had my sketch book out, and I was doodling. I don't know… I think it was a picture of us when we were young. What I can remember of us anyway. And then Donatello shouted something that really made me look up. Leo and Raph were out with Master Splinter- there was some kind of training exercise that had to be between just the three of them. I was curious, but Sensei doesn't want to talk about it. I respect him, so respecting his word is just a given, right?

Maybe. Maybe I just suck at being a teenager.

Either way- it was just me and Donatello. Donnie. And he just sort of stopped dead- I didn't hear the clack of his keys anymore. So I said nothing- but the scratching of my pencil had stopped too.

"How long- do you think?"

I knew what Don meant right away- and I guess that on itself was kind of scary. Unnerving.

"We got good defenses, Bro. "

I couldn't bring the jokes to my lips, as they bubbled and frothed in my brain. I wanted to say them, I really did. But I couldn't. Maybe that's because I didn't believe any of them.

"We had last time too."

And I had nothing to say to that because when a guy looses his home- looses everything over and over and over…. I guess you start to _stop _believing.

I just found something out- if I make a mistake on purpose then I can trace the letters back along the mistake-line and fix the word. Is that cheating- I wonder? Cheating who? That's stupid. Daft. Dumb.

Be real handy if life was like that, wouldn't it?

* * *

**Journal format? I don't think it can quite be called that, but yes... Either way. The musings of Michelangelo. An amazing plot will magically appear soon.**

**What did you think?**


	2. Chapter 2

**I** n k

* * *

"I'm going to get worry lines." Don clamped a hand over his forehead, trying his best to do the botox-glare at me.

I remember staring at him through a kind of blurry light show. I can't see the screen right now- don't need to turn the letters white since I can't exactly go back and read what I've written.

Don't feel well. I feel sick. Just a bit. Donnie's friend, the one doctor guy who lives on the streets? Yeah him. Forget his name. Will remember in a minute or so. I think.

Anyway, he had a party tonight, and he invited Leo and Raph and Donnie but I was the only one who decided to gate crash.

_Shots shots shots shots shots shots._

Room's spinning. Song's stuck in my head. It's playing on loop. Over and over and over again.

I think I had too much to drink.

As I was saying- earlier Donnie came in, and gave me a glare like he was trying to impersonate Leo. It was the glare of disappointment. I think I cringed a bit- I'm no good at controlling my expressions when I'm drunk. I wasn't drunk though. Still not drunk. I'm just feeling it hard tonight. I lay my head against the wall a couple times in the way home to think. Not because I couldn't stand. No, some of the other dudes were a bit wasted but I was still clean.

So Donnie gave that look and then it just sort of faded into something a bit more like him.

Dunno. Think it was worse.

Then he just sort of slouched out. I sat a stared at my laptop contemplating if, after dragging my ass home, it was worth getting up to write.

I just got the thing to the bed when Raph saunters in, chucks a bottle of water at me, calls me a dumbass and a couple other names I don't really _want_ to remember, then slams the door.

Oh well. Least I know he cares.

The water's helping though. Tastes funny. Bet he put laxatives in there or something. Wouldn't put it past him. Or one of those liver tablets if Donnie had anything to say about it.

Or Leo.

Big bro is going to have my shell tomorrow at training.

Training.

My head hurts.

Think it's a given I'm not in the mood for any deep philosophic laments tonight. Well, I know there's a new game on Wii. It's called _Epic Mickey_.

You're in this forgotten wasteland, and you have to try and fix everything and everyone, I think. Can't remember. Geeze. Maybe I had more to drink that I thought, huh?

Well, I think life should be more like that. You take a magical paintbrush and fix everything.

I'd be the one holding the brush too. I'm the artist. Sort of. I guess. Maybe Don is too. I could be technical about art now- then everyone would be an artist.

Anyway, my name's closer to Mickey than Raph or Don or Leo. Don't even start with the same letter.

Maybe they'd do a better job then me though.

Leo would bring about word peace, probably make everyone love us, but not too much… not like in the world I went where we were all superheroes. No. More like- just that they'd leave us alone. He wouldn't' share the paintbrush. He'd lock it up when he'd finished and spend his whole life guarding it and being miserable while we enjoyed our freedom.

Probably. Just guessing. I know my brothers. But I don't really know them. Not as much as you'd think. Know them more that I want to, more than most human families, I'll wager. You know, there's things when you're such a tight knit family. When someone gets sick or injured. You see them through their worst you know? And they see you.

But there's always that little bit that even you can't talk about yourself and no one ever sees. Not being emo. Don't have to be a bad thing.

Thing is- I'm just guessing. Cause I don't know what they'd do with that power. Not really. Not concrete.

It's only speculation. Faith. Humans place that faith in their God. I place it in my brothers. Family's all you really have in the end, thought, aint it?

Anyway, I think Don would find the cure for all kinds of things; probably get a few giant robots for shits and giggles. I guess he'd probably indulge us a bit, if he had it. Make sure we were safe too. Sounds like Donnie.

Raph? Don't really know. Maybe he'd throw water at everyone. Probably bitch at the population a bit, go all dictator for laughs but it'd blow over real quick-like. Hm. Protect them? For a resentful guy, he sure does that a lot. He'd protect us too, I think, and we'd have epic fights over who got the paintbrush instead of the remote.

And if I win one of those fights? Then what? What would I do with it?

Would I create us to be the worlds best superheroes? Would I make everyone love us and worship us? Would I bring world peace? Don't know. Maybe I'd just blow the whole world up and get rid of this little hole in the world that is filled with people who are filled with shit. There's no place like New York.

Think that came from a movie I watched.

Don't know.

Think it was London anyway.

Maybe I'd blow it up and save the millions. People either deserve it, or need salvation, I guess.

Geeze. I think I'm going to bed.

Starting to get a little morbid in here.

_Boom. _Wonder what that would be like?

* * *

**Drunk Mikey has issues. Anyway- that plot I was talking about will develop in time. **

**What did you think?**


End file.
